


Sweater Boys

by ninemoons42



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cuddling and Snuggling, M/M, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-21
Updated: 2011-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-16 22:36:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, there is a bit of a canard about sharing body heat during cold weather, so....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweater Boys

  
title: Sweater Boys  
author: [](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**ninemoons42**](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/)  
pairing: Arthur/Eames  
warnings: So this is a bit of an AU in that Arthur and Eames are a bit younger, maybe around college-age, and they're really adorable together and they wear sweaters. Blame this one on [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/cherrybina/profile)[**cherrybina**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/cherrybina/) and [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/photoclerk/profile)[**photoclerk**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/photoclerk/) , my dearest enablers, and on [this](http://i657.photobucket.com/albums/uu292/cherrybina/JGL/Joseph-joseph-gordon-levitt-786324_1280_1919.jpg) photo of Joseph Gordon-Levitt, which KILLS me every time I see it, I swear. BB!Eames's black sweater taken, of course, from [this](http://i657.photobucket.com/albums/uu292/cherrybina/THard/tumblr_letl5gvEP91qe5f96o1_500.jpg) photo.  
Well, I did say one of my fic resolutions was _write more porn_. So in this one I make another attempt at writing rimming, Arthur is on top, and, actually, for some reason this is very affectionate sex. [Why do I feel like that needs its own warning?!] I'm not even going to try to explain that lest I be accused of TMI. Anyway: BBs and pr0nz!  
Yes, there is a Doctor Who reference in this story. Blame it on Matt Smith.  
disclaimer: I don't own the original story or the characters. Not making any profit, just playing in the sandbox.  
summary: Well, there is a bit of a canard about sharing body heat during cold weather, so....

  
The freezing rain was already coming down in sheets by the time Arthur hurried up the stairs.

"I knew there was a reason why I got a second-floor place," he muttered irritably to himself as he shoved his key into the lock; the door creaked at him as he pushed it open, but he ignored it and simply started to get out of his wet coat and hat and boots. He shivered and huddled into his oversized sweater - argyle, brown and green and gray - as he muttered, "Don't have to climb too far to get home, fuck I'm cold."

As soon as his socked feet hit the floor he knew who was here; he'd made a point out of turning off the radiators when he left for school. Anyway, only one other person had a key.

Arthur thought he might have lost the point somewhere and then he didn't care, because he was walking through the flat and there was Eames, sleeping, propped up against the bed. He had wrapped himself in several comforters and a very silly striped scarf that was even longer than he was tall.

"You're not uncomfortable, sitting there on the floor?" Arthur asked, but not unkindly.

Eames answered him with a snore.

There was nothing for it but to join him, and so Arthur carefully pulled the comforters apart and sat down next to him, rearranging everything as he went, so none of the heat Eames had already stored up would escape.

Arthur carefully tucked all the corners back in. He revised his opinion of the silly scarf when he started winding the other end around his own neck and it was amazingly soft and warm. When he was done he kissed Eames's cheek, put his head on Eames's shoulder, and wrapped one arm around Eames's waist.

He was just about to drop off when he heard his name being murmured and he turned his head, just in time for a still-sleeping Eames to kiss him.

Arthur kissed back.

And when he finally opened his eyes Eames was wide awake and looking at him.

"You," Eames said, "have a very cold nose."

"It's not like I could do anything about the weather, Eames, it was already snowing when I left the school."

"Poor you. Come and get warm."

"Yes, please," Arthur sighed, and he settled into Eames's embrace. He could hear his heart beating, the rhythm of his breath. Eames's hands were nearly hot between his shoulders and on his arm. "Mmm. Love you."

"I love you." Eames kissed him again, and there was tongue this time, and Arthur groaned and opened up to him, his hands gripping Eames's arms tight.

"Christ, Arthur, keep that up and - "

And Arthur simply swallowed the half-hearted protest and dove in again, and this time he was pushing Eames down onto the floor, onto the piled comforters, and Arthur was climbing on top of him and they were still bound by the scarf.

Out of the comforters, Eames was dressed in a heavy pair of flannel PJs and a thick black sweater; Arthur pushed the sweater up and away, revealing a gray button-down with only the last few buttons done. "Well, no wonder you're cold," Arthur said, and undid the buttons and bent down to kiss Eames's bared stomach. "You couldn't be bothered to wear that shirt properly?"

"You complain when I do all the buttons, and you complain when I don't do all the buttons," Eames drawled. "Never satisfied, are you."

"Ha," Arthur said, and finally uncoiled his end of the scarf so that he could move more freely. "Can I?" he asked, tugging on Eames's waistband.

Eames merely lifted his hips in answer, and Arthur carefully dragged the pajama bottoms and underwear off, kissing as much of Eames's now-exposed legs as he could, all the way down to his feet.

When he looked back up there was an unreadable expression on Eames's face. "What?"

"My feet? Seriously? I'm starkers and you just kissed my feet."

"Because I can. But I'll stop if you want me to."

And then Eames was sitting back up and his hands were cupping Arthur's cheeks, and he was kissing Arthur, hard. "How amazing are you," he murmured when he stopped to take a big breath.

"I don't know, I can think of several answers to that," Arthur chuckled, and he was pulling off his sweater, the two t-shirts he'd layered on underneath, his heavy jeans, and he gritted his teeth when he was mostly naked in the cool air of the apartment.

And Eames was completely bent over, bare ass in the air, mouthing at Arthur's ribs and down to his stomach, tugging at the waistband of his boxers with his teeth.

"Dammit," Arthur hissed, as Eames's warm breath skimmed too close to his cock, already hard and aching, and he quickly tugged off the last of his clothes and tackled Eames into the comforters, running his hands over Eames's bared skin.

Eames smiled, then, and kissed him, hips already rolling upwards. His hands were touching Arthur everywhere, stroking along his neck, tracing the edges of his ribcage, coming around to palm his ass.

"Eames," Arthur growled, half a warning, rutting against him.

"Yeah, yeah," and then he was being handed the bottle of lube and a condom - but Arthur shook his head, motioned to Eames to turn onto his stomach, and there was something fierce in his grin as Eames scrambled to obey.

"Ready," was all the warning Arthur gave him, not even a question. And then he was spreading Eames, licking at him, tongue dipping, again and again, into the pucker of Eames's ass as Eames keened and bucked below him.

Arthur held him firmly in place. Christ, he'd never even thought about doing this and then Eames had showed up in his life and now he was doing this, he was really actually going to come just from rimming Eames, and this was so amazingly good.

Arthur thrust his tongue in one more time and then he released Eames, panting and groaning, and he had just enough presence of mind to put on the condom and pour on a generous handful of lube and he was sinking into him, Eames yelling his name, and god, Eames felt so good around him, hot and yielding, and Arthur had to fight back his orgasm with every hard, rolling thrust.

Flesh slapping against flesh. Arthur was reaching around blindly with the hand he'd lubed up, and Eames was wailing as he jerked him off, and Eames was coming, suddenly, and oh shit he was going to come -

Whiteout.

When he came to, Arthur was wrapped securely in the comforters and the scarf, and Eames spooned up behind him. He could feel the thud of Eames's heartbeat. "Wow," he muttered, "that was...."

"Still awake?" Eames chuckled. "And coherent? I must be doing something wrong."

And Arthur squirmed around to face him, and he was kissing him, and they were smiling into each other. "Not doing anything wrong," he said, and then kissed Eames's nose, his forehead. "Just, well, that was incredible, I hope it was good for you too."

"And that is probably why I love you," Eames chuckled. "Of course it was good, it was better than good, you tore me to pieces back there and I loved every second of it, and I loved it even more when you screamed my name. But, for all your consideration, I notice that, one, you don't even know you're clean, and two, we're on the bed now."

And Arthur laughed and he turned his head and buried the sound in the hollow of Eames's throat.

"Thank you," he huffed.

"Thank you, Arthur."  



End file.
